


Track 08 : Lover Dearest - Marianas Trench

by RubyFiamma



Series: Listen to the Stereo Tonight [4]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Barely Noticeable Suicide, Just Look Inside for Warnings, M/M, sort of character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2782046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyFiamma/pseuds/RubyFiamma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sometimes he thinks that the world -- fate's design, God, whatever you want to call it -- has a really sick sense of humour.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Track 08 : Lover Dearest - Marianas Trench

**Lover Dearest**

* * *

 

****

Gokudera sits in the same place every day watching Yamamoto, silent and still. He hates this place but it's like a never ending loop and he always ends up here even when he doesn't want to be. Even when he wills his feet to remain cemented to the floor of his apartment, he ends up here; watching and waiting. 

On the other hand, he doesn't really hate it because it's the only place he sees Yamamoto anymore. Gokudera watches Yamamoto from his desk at the back of the class room, silent and still. He watches him with aggravating curiosity and there's something that pierces his heart when he sees Yamamoto like this, nonchalant and naive and _free._

He watches the soft curve of Yamamoto's mouth as he speaks, watches it stretch when he smiles; bright like the sun. His head tips back and a bubble of laughter erupts from his throat and the corners of his eyes crinkle easy. If Gokudera thinks long enough, this is the most perfect picture of Yamamoto -- just like this, happy and without a care in the world. He's never understood why a person like Yamamoto wanted to join the mafia anyway.

When the bell rings Yamamoto always looks over his shoulder and stares at Gokudera and there are times where he feels Yamamoto's somber gaze filter right  _through_ him. It's ironic, Yamamoto's always been the best at seeing right through him. The smile he has from before never stretches across his mouth here and Gokudera never understands why he looks so  _sad_ _._ The silence is comforting now. Yamamoto should be  _happy_.

Yamamoto is always the last one to leave and Gokudera always walks home alone. It's okay because he's used to being alone. 

 

* * *

 

He's back in the class room again, watching and waiting but Yamamoto's smile never reaches him. Gokudera had thought he was okay with this but he can't help but feel bitter, that sour taste on his tongue is nasty and black and it clouds his heart. It's stupid really, that he's allowed himself to feel so much for Yamamoto and sometimes he just  _misses_ it, misses  _everything_  but then he reminds himself that this is for the best. Yamamoto deserves to be happy too, and all Gokudera ever did was drag him down.

He watches Yamamoto leave and Gokudera's become so used to seeing the back of him he can barely remember what his face looks like any more. He goes home by himself again, and it's alright because he's used to being alone.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes he thinks that the world -- fate's design, God, whatever you want to call it -- has a really sick sense of humour. He can't understand why the fuck he's ended up here again. The dirtied white washed walls and scraping chairs and Yamamoto's  _laughter_ ; none of it's fair. The hour that he's there stretches slow, and the ticking of the clock becomes vindictive, taunting and teasing because it's counting down the time that Yamamoto leaves him with that lost and longing look that pierces straight through Gokudera's chest every time. 

Maybe this time will be different, maybe this time he'll talk to Yamamoto but the thought of rejection is far more painful than the feeling left behind in his heart. So when the bell rings, Gokudera doesn't try but this time he closes his eyes so he doesn't have to see that look but he's seen it so often that the memory is seared across his eyelids and there's no escape. He hates this, he hates Yamamoto and sometimes he really wishes he was dead because then he wouldn't have to think anymore... he wouldn't have to  _see_ anymore.

 

* * *

 

This place is haunting him; the class room. This time Gokudera's going to leave because he's sick of waiting every time for Yamamoto to leave him instead. He's going to get up and walk out and not look back and this timeYamamoto can watch  _his_  back. He doesn't want to be where all this noise is, where Yamamoto looks so happy when he's really not because it's all  _fake_. There's something wrong with Yamamoto but Gokudera can't bring himself to ask why he looks that way. Why he looks at  _him_ that way. 

Whatever, he's done with it all. He's quitting; giving up on trying to figure it out and he's just going to leave because this sucks,  _everything_ sucks -- fuck the world and everything in it. This time he's the first one to leave and he goes before the bell. When he walks down the aisle past Yamamoto's desk, he feels the brush of fingertips burn his skin. The touch is feather light and if it weren't for the scorch, he'd never feel weight at all. He looks behind him and Yamamoto's frozen in his seat looking down at his fingers. Curiously he reaches over and skims his fingertips along Yamamoto's jaw line.  _Maybe now will he see me?_

Yamamoto goes completely stil, eyes wide and mouth open and his hand touches the spot where Gokudera's fingers have left their own trail of heat. He closes his eyes and he  _smiles._  It hurts more than it should, because Yamamoto's smiling at something unseen and for once, Gokudera's never wanted to see Yamamoto smile -- one of those truly wide and genuine smiles made only for him -- so badly in all the time he's known the idiot. It hurts so much and Gokudera can't remember the last time he felt this much pain. He wasn't sure he could feel anything anymore. 

Before his memory has a chance to forget this too, Gokudera doesn't stick around to see anything else.

 

* * *

 

He can't leave this place. He comes back every single fucking time and he doesn't know why until he realises.  _He_   _doesn't want to leave._ Why isn't he sick of this yet; it hurts to stay here and watch life move on without him but there has to be something else out there, this  _can't_ be as good as it gets. Yamamoto isn't here this time and Gokudera thanks whatever God that allowed him this miracle because he can't take anymore. He misses Yamamoto, he  _loves_ Yamamoto, but this is better. This is  _better_ because no matter how much it hurts and no matter how long he has to watch Yamamoto, he  _will_ be happy without him. Nothing in life is ever easy, Gokudera doesn't know why he thought this wouldn't hurt so much. But, he's better off letting go anyways because if he doesn't then Yamamoto will never move on. 

The class room feels more empty without Yamamoto here, time passes slow and Gokudera finally feels tired enough to sleep. He can't remember when the last time it was that he had slept or ate or anything because this  _fucking_  class room and Yamamoto's unsmiling face are all he _ever_  remembers. 

When his lids feel heavy enough, Gokudera stretches out an arm on the desk and rests his head on it and he doesn't have to wait for sleep to come. This time he doesn't see anything when he closes his eyes. It feels good to finally let go but if Gokudera thinks long enough about it, he's not sick of this yet -- he doesn't want it to end because when he wakes up Yamamoto could be gone and then he'd really be alone and as much as Gokudera likes to think he can handle it, he doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't want to be without Yamamoto, even if that's a selfish thing to want. He's never been the selfless type anyway. 

Sometimes he wishes Yamamoto would leave him, but the truth is he doesn't want him to go. 

 

* * *

 

"Gokudera? Gokudera?"

When he wakes it's to the whisper of his name against the shell of his ear. The breath is real, the first real thing he's felt since forever. There's a weight against his shoulder, gently rocking him and he can feel the heat emitting from the palm. It takes him a while, but he sits up and blinks away the sleep lingering.

"Hey."

It's a familiar voice and he can hear the smile in it. He's scared to turn around but then there's a hand sifting through his hair and he can't help but lean into the touch.

"Yamamoto," Gokudera murmurs, relishing in the graze of Yamamoto's fingertips on his scalp and just the slightest of smiles pulling at his mouth.

"Gokudera," Yamamoto says and it's cheery, the sound of it rippling through Gokudera as Yamamoto's tongue rolls over the  _r_  in his name. 

"You wouldn't believe the fucking dream I just had," he says with a laugh and then he remembers he had fallen asleep in the class room and they were probably  _still in the class room and Jesus fucking Christ Yamamoto better not be touching me like this in front of everyone._

His eyes snap open and they  _are_  in the class room but they're alone and Gokudera breathes a sigh of relief. Yamamoto's hand is still trailing through his hair and Gokudera can't get over how good the physical contact feels because even though it was a dream he feels like it's been forever since Yamamoto last touched him. 

"What kind of dream was it?" Yamamoto asks, pulling up a chair and sitting beside him. Yamamoto's lips are warm when they kiss him, soft to the touch and Gokudera can't believe how much he missed it, even if he were only dreaming before. He sighs deeply, contently, behind the kiss, wishing he could just hold on to those lips for just a little longer before Yamamoto moves away. He rests his head on his arms on the desk and looks up at Gokudera and Gokudera feels sheer elation ballooning in his rib cage, just the mere sight of Yamamoto smiling; looking up at him with that stupid dreamy and doe-eyed expression is enough to make Gokudera's heart swell so much that it's painful. 

"I think... I think I was dead... But I was stuck in a loop and I kept ending up here and just--" He wants to finish his sentence, but he'll sound stupid and kind of creepy and weird if he tells Yamamoto he spent the entire time watching him and wondering why he never smiled when he would look at Gokudera.

Yamamoto frowns and it makes Gokudera's heart stop. "You were," he says solemnly after a long pause and Gokudera doesn't know how serious to take him because he's still staring at him with that dazed and far away look in his eyes. "Or you are? I've never been good with these kinds of things, haha."

Gokudera snorts. "Shut up, you idiot. Quit fucking with me, I was trying to be serious. If I'm dead, why is it that I can talk to you --  _feel_ you? I couldn't do it in my dream." 

Yamamoto laughs again and Gokudera scowls, because the damn idiot -- would it kill him to take something seriously for once?

"I felt you," he says afterwards, quietly as he reaches for Gokudera's hand. "I felt you -- you know, when you were gone. I  _touched_ you and I felt you touch me too, didn't you?" He smiles so wide that it's brightness nearly burns and taps his jaw where Gokudera had touched him.  "I wanted more," he says whimsically and the smile slowly fades into a frown. "I  _missed_ you so much."

Gokudera's pulse races in fear of what he suspects but the warmth of Yamamoto's hand in his is comforting. "Che. Moron. What are you say-- what have you  _done_?" 

Yamamoto looks around the class room and smiles wide and Gokudera knows it's just for him, for the rest of his time here he knows all those smiles will be just for him. "This place's not so bad, huh Gokudera? I don't think I'll miss my old life anymore... not when I can finally be with you again."

The realisation isn't as frightening as it should be, and even if Gokudera should feel mortified and guilty, he doesn't. He's got all the time in the world to figure things out, even if he's stuck in this class room with this baseball idiot forever. Eternity doesn't seem so bad when his favourite person -- despite being a brainless waste of space half the time -- is next to him. 


End file.
